Five Witches
by Yaya 75
Summary: Five witches who have shaped Amon's life. Mother, Friend, Lover, Enemy, Life...Act II begun.
1. Act I, Scene I

A/N – To get the creative juices flowing, this story takes place in the same world as my longer fiction the Edo Coven. It's my entry into a challenge to write 25,000 words ina month. (Check out the C2 community for more information).

**_Five Witches _**

**_By Yaya

* * *

_**

_Act I, Scene I_

He watched her as she slept, dark golden hair falling over her face – when had she let it down from her trademark ponytails he didn't quite remember – and tried to memorize everything about her. The overhead reading light cast a golden focus on her and he committed to memory the path of the silk that fell over her face, the curve of her incredibly long lashes as they rested against the top of her cheeks, and the pout of her lips in sleep.

Because when they landed, his job would be done, and he would deliver Robin Sena into the hands of Sienna Lucas, one of the most powers women behind Solomon International.

The past forty eight hours had been a blur. He was still unsure whether he believed that they had been led out of the Factory by the specters of those who had died there. But Robin had said they whispered their secrets to her and he had no course except to believe her. She repeated what they said to him, _A tunnel this way. Turn here, soon... there is a broken light a few meters from you. _It had been details like those that had convinced him she was not making it up, that they were being saved by witches he had probably help send to their death. Their ability to forgive was something he did not understand, but he accepted the gift humbly.

The strangeness did not end there. As they exited the tunnel, finding themselves just a quarter of a mile away, on the backside of what had once been the Factory, a man had greeted them, appearing at just the right moment. He had only a few words for them, _If you wish to live, follow me._

Amon had figured him to be a Solomon Agent, but he had not voiced his concern to Robin, as he considered whether to put their lives into his hands. After all every moment they lived from this point forward was a moment longer than he had expected.Standing in front of Zaizen, he had seen his life pass in front of his eyes,before Miho had saved them.

So he had taken another leap of faith, pushing Robin into the car first, and closing the door firmly when he took the seat. The man had taken a second to turn to face them, winking at them and it had oddly enough put Amon at ease. At his side, Robin relaxed slightly and they had sped away in silence.

The agent had been older, with the kind of face one could easily forget. And there had not been the air of Hunter about him. Amon would know, he had spent his entire life surrounded by Hunters and he could pick one out in a crowd of thousands. This man – no name had been exchanged, though Robin had asked that one question with no responce– was something else entirely.

Perhaps it was in the airport that Robin had loosenedher hair, as they had been outfitted with blue passports and different names. Alfred Black, a name that should have meant nothing, except that it was the first identity Sienna had helped Amon create when he was still a teenager.

The stranger, in an instant became Dave Tom, a family friend who had acted as their tour guide in Japan. And for Robin, Sienna had picked another innocuous identity: Grace Black. Brother and sister, heading home after a three week vacation in Japan where they had celebrated her sixteenth birthday. It had been Robin's lie, and Amon was amused by her quick thinking. She never failed to surprise him.

They had parted company with "Dave" at one of the central hubs, his ticket was for Russia, leaving an hour earlier than their own flight and so he had only a few moments to spare. As he headed in one direction, Amon thought it would be the last they saw of him, but the man turned, his eyes – they were so dark they were almost black – bore into Amon's as he gave them a final farewell, "You two, take care of yourself. There are a lot of changes in this world… Make sure that you survive them."

Amon had only nodded. He intended to survive. It was the only thing he knew how to do.

Hour later, as they flew over the Pacific Ocean, he glanced outside the window into the darkness of the sky. He did not know what they were flying towards, but he had made a promise months ago and he was bound by it. He did not know what would happen when he landed in Honolulu, but he had to have faith in Sienna… because if he failed Robin… _You can't fail Robin_, he told himself leaning against his chair and once again turning to look at her.

Her head had fallen on his shoulder and he reached with his right hand, across his chest, to smooth a stray hair behind her ear realizing at that moment he had never actually touched her with his bare hands . Not her face, not her hair. It was just as he imagined – silky soft hair and the smooth curve of her ear… He had neither expected the electricity that surged at his finger tip nor the heavy beat of his heart.

He sighed and removed his hand reluctantly. _Can I really deliver her to Sienna? _Sienna who he had always trusted, for no other reason than he felt it was right . No matter his reservations about Solomon – even before the Factory and Zaizen – he had felt that if he had to place his loyalties in any one direction it would be towards Sienna. Carlo Lucas had Amon's loyalty because he was Chairman of Solomon International, Juliano had it because he was Amon's mentor; but Sienna had more than his loyalties. She had his trust.

Sienna had treated him as if he were more than rank and file. In Japan he had some clout, but in the grand scheme of things he knew that he was not one of those who moved the players on the board. At best he was a knight, but guessed that he was closer to pawn than anything else.

Funny to think of the organization and his place in it in that way… but then again this mission had started with a chess game. It felt like years since he had been in Rome, playing chess with Colin in one of Juliano's room.

That same morning Juliano had said, _hunt her._ The older man had not seen the surprise behind Amon's eyes, the doubt. Amon more observant – perhaps Juliano had lost his edge, perhaps when it came to Robin, Juliano was just more careless – whatever the reason, Amon had seen the weakness in Juliano. _Hunt her, _from the lips_. My weakness,_ from the eyes. A green so like Robin's, it had made Amon pause.

Amon should have known the relationship between his mentor and his partner. It was there for the world to see when one knew what to look for. Perfectly matched shades of verdant eyes, the color of Tuscan hills. There were no such things as coincidences, everything was a clue, Juliano had taught him early on – and Amon had forgotten the lesson when it mattered most.

Regardless, Juliano was a man of absolutes, granddaughter or not, he had chosen a path and ordered it to be done. Amon was not so disciplined, a flaw in his genetic makeup. A flaw that Juliano should have been aware of. Amon Nagira after all, had been born because of a mind changed, a life not ended.

It may have been that fact that entered Sienna's mind when she picked him to save Robin. He remembered playing chess with Colin that day, unequal combatants in a game Amon had a knack for. Colin weakness had always been his lack of patience, a mortal flaw in a game that could take an incredible amount of time.

Somewhere towards the end of the game, Sienna had walked in with her proposition, _Bring Robin Sena to the United States into Solomon America's care, and you will be able to write any ticket you want._

Sienna eyes had fallen to the game, quick to see the moves necessary, though she hid it well. There had a been a light in her eyes as he made the series of move that would lead to the end game. Of course, she had seen the path already laid out. For Sienna Lucas, sister to Solomon's Chairman, strategy was a way of life. Games were how one survived in Solomon, and Sienna orchestrated many the games herself.

Then the nagging again, _What if this is just a huge game and Sienna wishes to exact final judgment on Robin? What if she knew Juliano better than he did, that the old priest would not be able to finish the kill. What then? _

It was a thought discarded quickly. There had been something in Sienna's eyes that evening. With time to finally assess every angle of that night, Amon could now see it for what it was– worry, fear. It had been those emotions that had moved Amon to promise to deliver Robin. He had never seen Sienna so unmistakably human.

It was what drew him to protect Robin, he supposed. The uncomplicated answer. The incomplete answer. Even with all the deception between them, she a spy for Juliano before she became a witch to be hunted, there had been something about her that had not matched the idea of the most dangerous witch. There was a freshness about her, the same innocence that had stayed his hand from pulling the trigger that day. That was all he would admit to himself.

Amon wondered if it had been this way for his own father and mother. Hunter Keisuke Nagira and his prey, Anabelle Vaughn. Amon's mother had put her life in Keisuke's hands and he had deemed her worthy to live.

Was history doomed to repeat itself, Amon wondered? In the end, Keisuke had spared Annabelle's life just as Amon had spared Robin's. Solomon had turned on Keisuke, hunting one of its most formidable Hunters. In the here and now, it was the biggest difference: Solomon was still directing Amon, still protecting him and Robin.

Almost thirty years earlier the organization had tolled the death sentence for Annabelle Vaughn, yet months earlier it had stayed the execution for Robin Sena… it was enough of a difference, Amon hoped to prevent him from making the second mistake that Keisuke had made. Keisuke fell in love with Annabelle. Amon was determined to fight that from ever happening. He could never admit to loving a witch.


	2. Act I, Scene II

Disclaimer: I don't own crap diddly squat. And most especially I do not own any characters in the original WHR. I do own all the original characters in Five Witches and the Edo Coven though... and any semblance to any other work of fanfiction is purely coincidental.

* * *

**_Five Witches _**

_**By Yaya **_

* * *

Act I, Scene II

Keisuke Nagira was good at his job – damned good. At thirty, he was already within striking distance of Juliano Colegui's record. Just one more kill to tie and then he was leaving Colegui in the dust.

"Kei, you get way too much pleasure out of this, man," his partner Rayne Saito warned as they took a break in the courtyard of the STN-J headquarter in Tokyo. "Colegui's watching."

Literally, he was watching. Keisuke, a fall of raven hair covering his keen eyes, glanced upwards at the top balcony where the man watched them. Colegui and Director Yue Miritani stood speaking to each other. Miritani's back was to them but the priest's eyes did not move from the pair below.

A no smoking sign hung right above the pillar Kei leaned against. In defiance, he blew smoke into the air – strictly prohibited on headquarter property except in designated areas – and let the ash fall into a planter at his left.

"Nothing to look at," Keisuke shrugged. Rayne sat on the ground, leaning against the pillar to Kei's right pouring over a shojo magazine. Sadly single – as Rayne referred to herself – she spent most of her time engrossed in reading manga and romance novels.

"Stupid old shit, isn't he?" She asked, flipping the page to the left. She had no use for Colegui. After all, he was the one who had sent her to Japan as punishment for her affair with one of the young priests under him. As an example to the rest of the Fifteen Families – as the echelon of Solomon were called – she had been sent to Japan. Her exile though was coming to an end.

Kei shrugged, using the toe of his shoe to push at Rayne's shoulder.

"Quit it," she scolded automatically. She lifted her gaze, speculation on her face, "He's changed. I think his power is fading."

"Still I wouldn't call him stupid… _that_ would be stupid." Kei said. Colegui ruled with an iron fist and reputation. Once he had been the world's greatest hunter.

_Big freaking deal, _Kei thought, _your time is done, old man. Make way for the young blood. _Colegui was by no means ancient, but very few Hunters worked after their mid-thirties. They moved on to administrative or teaching positions, satisfied to live their glory days among themselves. Colegui on the other hand had written the training manuals, had designed Hunter protocol, the reminded everyone constantly. _Solomon's most prolific and devout hunter. _

They had a long standing feud between them, the priest and the Japanese hunter. Kei had thought to exact his justice once and for all by beating the old man at his own game. _Tonight it begins. Soon I'll get my next target and I will prove that I am the greatest Hunter Solomon has ever produced. Soon you will become obsolete, old man. _

He couldn't fail. Not with Rayne Saito at his side. Funny thing, this slip of a girl was the most capable partner he had ever had in all his 12 years as a hunter. At first, Kei did not think he would have use for her, the report he had received hours before he met her had described her as the youngest daughter of Director Matthias Saito, United States Branch. He had expected a spoiled rich brat… not a woman with such an impressive Craft. He was saddened that her time in Japan was coming to end, but glad that he would have her at his side during this most important hunt.

Both their units went off, and when Kei looked up at the balcony the two men had returned inside.

Rayne reached for her unit and read the message that flashed on the small screen. "They're ready for us," She said, and he dragged her up.

Crossing the courtyard, entered made their way to the main conference room. As they paused at the front door, Rayne reached to turn the handle, her hand coming into contact with the metal.

Keisuke Nagira watched as emotions crossed her face in rapid succession from plain curiosity to caution.

"Wh-what is it?" He asked, reading her face as he did his own wife's. Hell, he spent more time with Rayne than Ryka.

"Colegui… he feels… triumphant."

Her instincts were faultless. A feeling of dread washed over him… _no, I have not underestimated him. It ends here. Tonight. _

They walked in, Keisuke taking the lead. Colegui sat behind the massive metal desk, Director Miritani nowhere in sight. A single manila folder lay on the desk.

"Father Colegui," Keisuke and Rayne spoke. Neither bowed, it would have been too hypocritical.

The priest sat back against his chair, hands steepled in front of him as the two Hunters – one of the best teams in all of Solomon – regarded him. Both their eyes held loathing, and he relished it. As long as you were hated, Juliano believed, you continued to exist. Once they thought you were not a threat… then you were obsolete.

"Nagira. Saito. All the information you need on your next assignment is in that folder… She has been spotted in Edo, frequenting the walled city."

"They always seem to end up there," Rayne muttered, her dislike for the place plain. In Japan, witches hid and were treated as less than citizens. It went against her basic belief system. Still, it was a merry chase against those that had crossed the realm of sanity.

"Like finds like," Colegui answered. He waited for one of them to reach for the file, not asking them to sit, but instead taking their measure.

Rayne Saito was the look of the new world, a mix of Asian and Caucasian. With golden brown eyes and black hair, she was deceptively innocent in her beauty. Keisuke Nagira towered over her by a good half a foot. With his dark eyes and dark hair, he looked more like a pop star than a trained killer. Until one looked into his cold eyes. It was a look the priest saw every day in the mirror, he had create killers aplenty after all.

Keisuke tired of the silence, time here was time wasted. He pulled the file – a thin one for once and opened it. An full page picture of the Witch greeted him.

And his eyes darkened. _Anna_...

"Do we have a problem, Nagira?" Colegui asked, his voice challenging.

Rayne glanced at it, her own eyes widening as she took the picture in, her own memories threatening to suffocate her.


	3. Act I, Scene III

**_Five Witches_**

**_By: Yaya_**

* * *

Act I, Scene III

"How do you know Anna?" Rayne asked quietly as they made their way towards the Walled City. She could read him well enough, but more telling was the way he clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white to match his pale face.

"How do _you_ know Anna?" He snapped back and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I just never expected to hunt her."

"Yeah, one doesn't usually expect a Director's daughter to end up on the Most Wanted List," Rayne remarked staring outside of her window. "Her father and mine are very good friends… she's closer to my sister's age, but we traveled the same circles. She has always had a dangerous Craft… so we are going to hunt her?"

When she turned back to Keisuke she could feel the waves emitting from him. Of regret, and fear … and underneath it all… love. He sighed, the entire weight of the world in that one breath when he answered, "What other choice do we have? She has been found dangerous, a Witch. And we are Hunters."

A long pause but then she asked again, "How do you know Anna?"

"I spent my apprenticeship in Canada."

"Oh." It was answer enough. She opened the file on her lap. Annabelle Vaughn, daughter of Director Tucker Vaughn, North America. Height: 5'5", eyes: gray, hair: brown hair. Actually, the description was an understatement. Her hair was more coppery in color than brown, and her eyes could go from light gray to almost black in an instant… she was that kind of woman.

And that she had crossed from sane to insane, that she had become dangerous, that did not surprise Rayne at all. Annabelle had always walked a narrow line. She was too passionate a person for it to be any other way, had been allowed too much freedom from a indulgent father… in that Rayne was very much like Anna.

"This was all before I met Ryka, of course."

There was no conviction in his voice and he realized he was talking to a powerful psychic. It would be ridiculous to hide anything from her, if he had anything else to hide. "We were just kids… but I could have loved her forever. She could have loved me forever."

"What happened?"

"A street urchin from Japan is not good enough for a Director's daughter. That is what Colegui told me. By order of her father."

"Why have we never had this conversation before?" She asked and he grinned. "Why do we both hate Juliano so?"

"Because we both thought it was natural to just hate Juliano Colegui."

She argued, "The rest of the world adores him."

"The rest of the world is fucking insane… and don't confuse adoration with fear," he replied, but this time he said it with some gravity and they rode the rest of the way in silence.

Half an hour later, they came to the western gate. The Walled City of Japan, built at the edge of the Edo district, was a law onto itself. Thousands of people disappeared into the city every year from all over the world. It was even rumored the Methuselah herself lived behind the city's walls.

They walked in silence, keeping their eyes open for their various contacts. Eight in all were known to them, two who they actually trusted. But it was not going to happen today. After three hours of silence – the residents of the Walled City kept not only their lips closed around Solomon Hunters, but also their doors. When strangers entered through any of its gates, the news spread like wildfire.

She asked, more to break the silence than anything, "How hard you going to look?"

"I'm in no rush. Colegui's time will come. Eventually." His eyes shifted from door to door, looking for any clue.

"You wanna grab a burger?" She asked as the western gate came into view.

He was about to respond when they saw the woman in her wheelchair. She appeared as if out of nowhere, a cane in her hand, decrepit in body… but her eyes full of wisdom bore into Keisuke Nagira's.

"You seek what you have lost, Hunter."

"The Methuselah," Rayne whispered with awe in her voice.

"And you, with ancient blood in your veins, cannot follow." Something passed between them and Rayne nodded.

The crows appeared as if out of nowhere – hundreds of them on the wire, passing judgment on the scene below them. No sound, not even the flapping of wings, as Keisuke made ready his reply.

He hesitated until the old witch spoke again, "Annabelle waits, as she has always waited, Hunter."

Rayne watched with eyes and preternatural senses. She felt the change in him when the Methuselah had said Anna's name. His entire being had responded to the name.

"I'll be at the car," Rayne promised.

As she walked away, Keisuke stopped called out to her, "An hour, Rayne. If I'm not back in an hour-"

They had been partners for to long for her to say anything but, "I'll be in the car, Kei."

He watched her reach the gate, the setting sun throwing everything into deep color, before turning back towards the woman. She had moved back into the shadow of a door way, "Come, Hunter. Your destiny awaits you."

They moved into the building and in the very entrance was a large staircase leading straight up. "From this point forward you go alone, Hunter. Behind the door at the top you will find your Anna."

He nodded and began to climb, taking the steps two at a time.

When he reached the top landing he paused before entering the room. Reaching for his sidearm he took a deep breath, looking for the strength to do what he was about to do. He pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

It was once a grand ballroom – he had never known rooms like this existed in the Walled City A wall of windows graced one side, and the sky outside was the deepening of the day into night.

The room had seen better days, but it was not in such a state of disarray that it could not be salvaged without some love and care. Wallpaper peeled on one section, the floor seemed duller – but that could have been from the lighting in the room - but what grabbed one's attention was the ceiling.

A giant crystal chandelier that dominated the center of the room. The entire ceiling had been partitioned into several large pieces and in each one was a picture of Japan's wonders both natural and personal. Cherry blossoms in bloom, a geisha, Mt. Fuji, a pair of children in rice paddies, a beautiful crane; on and on the pictures went.

Under the chandelier was a white grand piano, and a woman at the seat. He moved towards her slowly, until she began to pick a tune on the keys and it almost made him stop in his tracks. He did not know how he did it, but he continued until he reached the end of the piano, directly across from her. The gun felt heavy in his hand, but he kept it trained on her, a spot right above her heart.

Annabelle Vaughn was one of the most beautiful women in the world. Her hair, sometimes called red or brown, was richer in tone than either. Almost metallic, he could always pick her out in a crowd just from the stunning color. Her father called her a pretty penny. It was an understatement.

Gray eyes dominated her delicate face and when she lifted her head to look at him he saw that they had darkened to almost black. But her features were still soft, in a few more years she would have more mature edges to her looks and he feared that she would be even more stunning than she was now. It was a sobering thought, that she was a flower still in bloom.

She stopped playing abruptly and said his name, "Keisuke."

She frowned slightly at the gun pointed at her. But she had lived her life as the daughter of one of Solomon's Directors. She was used to weapons, had been trained out of necessity to use them – but she did not remember a time when one had actually been pointed at her.

He asked, "Anna, what are you doing in Japan?"

The sound of her name on his lips seemed to give her pause and she played her C scales, "I could say that I was looking for you…. but that would be a lie. I'm sure that my file gives the better story. They say that I've gone over the edge." She gave herself background music, playing two ominous measures. "I was looking for a place to hide… to survive."

"Have you? Gone over the edge?"

"Who is to really say? I have been judged, now the question is, do you follow the laws of Solomon… or the laws of your heart?" This time her fingers danced over the keys, butterflies in flight.

"I have a wife. A son." He said it knowing that in the context of this conversation it made no sense. Still, it had to be said between them. It was too important and he was too honorable a man to pretend that they did not exist. His world had ended when he had left this woman, and it was not until years later when he met Ryka that he was able to really live again.

"We dreamed of that once, didn't we?" She didn't follow the words with music, instead her eyes drifted to a corner of the room, where window met wall and Kei's eyes were drawn to the same space.

Lying on all fours, its large eyes watching both of them, was a big dog. The breed came to him in a moment, a Rottweiler.

"That is Vancouver. He's been very good to me these past months."

Keisuke had read enough of the file, "He and his kin was responsible for the death of two Solomon agents in New York."

"No, see, that wasn't Vancouver," she shook her coppery curls and closed the lid of the piano at the same time. "Those were Toronto, Brooklyn and Sydney… They didn't make it. Vancouver is new…"

"And how did you make it? Who helped betray Solomon and helped you get out of the country?"

"My family was not about to see me become hunted… we have served Solomon for hundreds of years – and this is how they repay us?"

She spoke with the same tone that he had heard Rayne use when they met with the executive levels of Solomon. A haughtiness that no one in Japan had. He had seen it in other hunters – American, African, European, even some of the mainland Chinese hunters, but never in his home land.

"Why are you being hunted?"

"You've read the file," She refused to look away from him, but he could not meet her gaze, instead switching from the dog at the corner to her face – but not directly in the eyes. That was dangerous.

"Some of it. But I would like to hear the truth from you."

He gauged his reaction to her, trying to bring his heartbeat to somewhere near normal. It pounded in his ears, and the smell of her seemed to invade his every being. It was as if the past several years had not even happened. He was seventeen again, she the sweetest of sixteen.

"Do you believe that I will tell you the truth?"

"God help me, but yes."

She smiled then, and it was devastating. It was not the smile of one who knew complete joy, but rather of one who saw the end of her days coming closer, "I don't know why I did it… I just had to. He was an evil man, I could see it in his dog's head."

The file had given sparse detail.Her triggering event had happened half a year ago. She had moved from Vancouver to New York, free for the first time – though her family was long involved in Solomon, she had chosen to become a veterinarian. It was an appropriate career for a woman whose Craft was the ability to communicate and control animals.

Then one day, she had turned an animal on its owner – abuse she had claimed to the Solomon Director in New York. The Director had explained that it was no excuse; the law should have been her first recourse, not her Craft. The file had noted how the owner had to spend days in the hospital, the cut on his leg had required over fifty stitches.

The dog – a large pit bull named Max - had been put to sleep and hours later a pack of dogs had attacked the owner as he walked outside his home. He never regained consciousness and died the next week.

She had always had an affinity for man's best friend.

"Have any incidents happened since New York?"

"No… but I'm afraid, that it'll happen again. Maybe this is what our lives were leading to. You and me, in this beautiful room, one last dance… before it all ends?"

She stood, afraid that her fate was already written in the stars that were beginning to shine in the sky. Holding out her hand to him, she said, "I have waited for over ten years for this goodbye, Keisuke… Please, don't deny me."

Before he placed his hand in hers he had been unsure of the road he would take. When he did, she locked gazes with him. This was the first woman he had ever loved. He shook his head and tried to fight the feeling, fighting his entire being as he stared into her gray eyes. _Not good enough for Tucker Vaugh's daughter_, Colegui's voice rang in his head.

The space between them disappeared as he held their joined hands between them. He placed a kiss on her fingers and they held each other, swaying to unheard music in their heads.

She smiled sadly as her hand fell on the gun still in his other hand. With her free hand she touched its barrel, cool to the touch.

"Your dog could probably jump on me and rip my throat out before I decided whether or not I wanted to pull this trigger."

"You're too good a shot, I wouldn't risk Vancouver that way…. Besides, I made my choice a long time ago, Kei. I would never intentionally hurt the man I love"

She said it matter of factly, but he could feel the pulse against his, quickening at the admission. He regarded her, looked with what little sixth sense he had into her eyes – beautiful and large. She was coherent. There was not that vagueness he saw in witches who had lost their way. It didn't make sense. She wasn't crazy.

He had been taught there were only two kinds of witches: 1) those that had passed from sanity to madness and 2) those that used their Craft to commit horrible crimes putting innocent people at risks.

He knew her soul like he knew his own. There was nothing criminal in her. She cried at injustice, had the kindest of hearts. There was no way she was the latter kind of witch. And the clarity in her gaze was undeniable. None of this made sense.

Yet, when she lifted her face upwards, it made all the sense in the world to place the gun on the piano top and kiss her.


	4. Act I, Scene IV

A/N – No editing, no betaing, just letting it flow (as I'm sure you can tell from the misspells... where this story is going is anyone's guess).

Thanks for the reviews.

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_**Five Witches **_

_**By Yaya **__

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_

Act I, Scene IV

Her life began to unravel the year he turned eight.

"Mama," Amon found Annabelle at the kitchen table, her arms folded and her head nestled on them. He glanced around the kitchen, at his corner faithful old Vancouver lay in front of the kitchen door, guarding them…. but Amon had begun to fear that the danger was actually in their tiny apartment.

Vancouver always stayed in the kitchen, some sort of agreement with his mate Tokyo. The female usually stalked around the living room, her three pups in various ages – Annabelle always kept one from each litter.

He smoothed her hair, the most glorious color he had ever seen, and tucked it behind her ear. Gray eyes – the one trait they shared – stared back at him unseeing.

"Amon, be careful. Stay away from the window… I don't want anyone to see you," she whispered, her hand coming to gather him into her embrace.

That had been her newest thing, staying away from the window. It had come after she had made him come straight home from school, and then a few months later she had pulled him out of school altogether. A month ago, she had stopped letting him go over to play with the few friends that he had, they had quickly stopped coming around on their own.

Then last week she had prohibited from spending any time outside… The dogs were still allowed to go and do their business outside, but Amon was trapped in the house. With a mad woman.

"Anna?" A voice called from the living room.

Sanity returned to her eyes for an instant and she was up, pushing Amon out of the way.

"Ryka?" she smoothed her skirt and made her way out of the kitchen.

Amon took the seat she had vacated, mimicking her earlier posture, but pursing his lips in a way that was all his own. He knew if he waited….

"Hey, buddy," an eleven year old Syunji Nagira bounced in, a toothpick between his lips and his hair spiked with a heavy amount of his mother's gel. He could have been talking to the dog for all the answer he got.

Taking the seat directly across from Amon, Nagira slid a bento box over to his younger half-brother, "You look hungry."

Amon wasn't, but he took the food nonetheless. He didn't remember the last time he had eaten, that would require Anna go to the grocery store. But he had gone past hunger – Anna didn't work and often required the kindness of other people. It usually fell to Ryka Nagira, Keisuke's wife, to dole out the kindness.

His _father's_ wife, Amon thought to himself. He had never met Keisuke, pictures were everywhere and there was no denying he was Kei's son. He had his mother's eyes, but that was the extent of it, he may have well been Kei's clone.

Nagira had similar features, but had enough of his mother that his dark hair was thick and almost curly. He had a broader face than his younger brother, and no one knew where he had inherited his wicked grin. Except he wasn't grinning today. He looked at Amon, witch worry in his eleven year old eyes, "My mom said your mom's been sick for a while."

Amon shrugged. What was he supposed to say? He only had his mother. No one knew what that was like… not even Nagira. Sure Keisuke had abandoned them too – _first, abandoned them first, Amon_ corrected, but Ryka Nagira was the wronged party. She had justice on her side.

Anna Vaughn was a foreigner, had had an affair with a married man, born his bastard child – and those were her good parts. Her only friend was the woman she had wronged and her treatment of her probably bordered on maltreatment… if she didn't scare anyone who inquired about his health.

"She says there's a man watching her."

"He doesn't look like you, does he? Older, more Japanese," he suggested. Nagira rarely mentioned their father.

"No. An old man. An American," he replied pushing at the fish with his chopsticks.

Amon shook his head, "She says he haunted her once before – in New York. He walked in her dreams and made her do things."

"Really? That sounds weird, Amon."

He shrugged as if to say, what's not weird about my mom?

Vancouver from his corner lifted his head. The Rottweiler glanced around carefully and then got back on all fours, moving towards Amon. Both boys jumped. Vancouver didn't move unless their was food involved – dog food.

"Hey, he's alive!" Nagira teased. The dog nuzzled his nose against Amon's hand and then began to pull at the boy towards the living room.

"What is it, boy?" Amon asked reaching for the big dog's collar. Rottweilers by nature were big, but Vancouver was huge. On his hind legs he was much taller than the eight year old, and much more menacing.

"Hey, who is that!" Nagira asked and pointed towards the kitchen door. The shade had been lifted from the glass pane and Amon watched as the old man – who had been looking through the pane – disappeared. "What the hell!"

Amon shook his head and did what all little boys did in times of doubt – he ran for his mother.

"-don't know what's happening, Ryka," Anna was saying when the Amon and Nagira ran into the room.

"Boys? Boys, what's wrong?" Ryka asked, standing from the couch.

She was what a mother should be, Amon had decided early on. She always smelled sweet, as if sugar were her perfume.

A lot smaller than Anna, Ryka Nagira looked like the typical Japanese housewife – except that her husband had left her eight years ago and given her instruction to care for his lover. No one else would understand the relationship between her and Keisuke, but she had loved him unconditionally, and she had always accepted that there were parts of his life that she had never been privy to…

Besides, upon meeting Anna Vaughn, Ryka realized the other woman needed her more than either of them needed Keisuke. She had taken her under her wing, been her eyes and ears the first few months when Anna had left the Walled City and Keisuke disappeared. Anna's Japanese had been atrocious those first few months, but slowly she had learned. Anna Vaughn was a survivor, and though neither woman had heard Juliano Colegui say it: like was drawn to like. Keisuke's women were cut from the same cloth.

_Keisuke, where are you when we most need you?_

He was keeping Solomon busy, and in that had traded his own freedom for Anna's. They attempted to hunt him – he was by far more dangerous, privy to the secrets of the STN-J. Anna was a witch who had been out of control for a short period in her life, she seemed to have gotten over what ailment had afflicted her, and her father had somehow found new favor… a bargain, she stayed out of the Americas and kept under the radar and they would not hunt her.

But Ryka had begun to sense the woman's descent into madness. The lucidity was slowly leaving her friend… but Ryka had the missing piece. Anna had given her the piece. _A man stalks me… in the day time and in my dreams. A very ancient man, who did this once before, because I would not submit to him… and Solomon was afraid of him. _

She knew that there was someone doing this to Anna. That eight years ago, when she had unleashed her Craft by directing those animals against her client, someone had pulled her strings. Someone had turned off the sane button in Anna's head.

"Mom, there was a man in the window," Nagira said, too old to need her embrace, but not so for Amon. "A scary old man."

The younger boy made a beeline towards his mother, throwing his arms around her waist, "Mama, he disappeared! He just disappeared!"

Over his head, the two women's eyes met in silent understanding. It was the boys who were most important. Nothing else.

Anna kneeled down and put her arms on his shoulders. There was something of the old Anna in her gaze as she told him, "Honey… you're going to stay with Ryka and Nagira for a while. You and the pups. OK?"

It was the last time Amon would cry.


	5. Act II, Scene I

A/N – Bear with me... I may yet have a plot... or not.

_**Five Witches **_

_**By Yaya **_

* * *

Act II, Scene I

They were in paradise. Robin glanced across at Amon as they rode the little shuttle bus from their terminal. She had been here once, Honolulu for a short period – though her ward hated the city, said that the sins of the mainland United States were intruding on a perfect place. Instead, they had spent much of their time on the Big Island, where fire was sacred. It had been a religious experience, the power of the volcano so close - who better to understand a fire goddess than a fire witch?

That seemed like a lifetime ago. She felt - had felt in the past few months - that she had died and been reborn in the next life. It was a world where the reborn took the road less traveled, the darker of the paths. Somewhere, in another existence, another Robin lived a charmed life, oblivious to her true relation with Juliano, oblivious to Zaizen's inhumanity… the charmed Robin was probably oblivious of all things.

… of all things except Amon probably. But that had been the way of it before she had even gotten to Japan. He didn't know that, how could he? He had no time for fifteen year old girls who knew nothing of the world.

She wondered if he resented her. But what would resent look like on his face? It would have to be an improvement over the grim mask he wore every day. Even in his new clothes, a pair of jeans and an aloha shirt - what had that man been thinking to give Amon an aloha shirt? It bordered on sacrilegious. It would be like Father Juliano wearing … she couldn't think of anything right away, but then glanced at the Japanese business man to Amon's right. He wore a dark navy suit in this incredibly hot weather. It would be like Father Juliano wearing his vestments to the beach, she decided.

She could feel her blouse starting to stick to her skin and she moved around in her seat, feeling the exposed back of her knee peel off the hot plastic. A trickle of sweat fell from her forehead, stinging her eyes. She blinked in discomfort.

Thankfully, the ride between the terminal to the baggage claim was short and she sat in her seat, waiting for Amon to give her a signal, any signal. The bus was almost empty before he stood up, and by his stance she knew he was waiting for her to move first.

"Don't you ever sweat?" She asked suddenly as her white tennis shoes hit pavement. She turned as he got off the bus, but he was already preoccupied with getting his bearings, looking north towards the low mountains that dotted the landscape. Even with the billowy clouds overhead, it was extremely hot for a fall day. But this was Hawaii… and one only had to wait.

He paused on the middle of the pavement, the only two left as the other riders had headed into the building to the baggage claim. Suddenly, as if he had wished it, the famous trade winds ran through them, cooling to the touch. Robin smiled, feeling ten times better than she had earlier. Hugging herself tightly she beamed, "Ah, that was nice."

He was about to comment on her smile – he had not seen it in a while. He was not referring to the tentative smile that seemed to be a by product of her gratitude; but the smile that showed a hint of teeth, a smile that engaged her eyes… that was the smile he had… missed. The word that popped into his head was missed. It was a dangerous road to take, and he tried to think of anything else to say.

A group of people were now headed towards them, ready to take the bus back to the terminal… quaint but inefficient, it could be said of many things on the island. As the bus left full of passengers, a woman remained standing.

"Mr. Black?" She asked. She was tall, a few inches shorter than himself, and golden brown, but the most striking of her features was her long black hair that touched the back of her knees. He followed the trail of her hair from bottom to top, ending at a flower tucked behind her ear. _Plumeria_, the name came to him from the recess of a forgotten memory. She seemed to have come to life out of an airline commercial.

"Yes?" He asked, missing the feel of his gun.

"Aloha! Welcome to Hawaii," she smiled and draped a lei around him. As she drew back, she whispered in his ear, "Sienna Lucas sends you her thanks and her greetings."

She then turned to Robin and repeated the gesture, "Aloha. My name is Lani, and I've been instructed to take you to your hotel."

She led and they followed into the building. Passing the waiting room, where a few dozen people waited for other shuttle buses, she took the stairs that flanked a pair of escalators, "Your bags will be waiting at your hotel room in Waikiki. …It's about 1 pm local time, and your undoubtedly tired from your trip… but your hotel boasts a world class restaurant, or feel free to order anything you need – it's all been taken care of."

They walked through sliding doors and into a long building full of baggage turnstiles. It was blessedly cool, but since she was dressed for the outdoors, Robin actually shivered. From her side, Amon gave her a glance, a question in his eyes.

She shook her head to say she was perfectly fine, and it was a short time later that they passed through another set of sliding doors and were out on the pavement again. This time, the overhang of the walkways above them protected them from the sun. Robin had little time to look around before they were escorted into a limo. Amon took the seat next to her, so that they faced the front of the car, Lani sliding into the seat in front of them, staring at the back window.

As the limo left the curb, she reached into the side bar and handed them two water bottles. Robin thanked her before turning the cap and drinking half of it immediately, "Sorry. I guess I'm not used to the humidity."

"Is this your first time on the island?" Lani asked.

Robin shook her head, surprising Amon, "To the Big Island mostly, some of Maui, a couple of days here... I don't think I've ever had a bad time here!"

"Then welcome back. I hope the islands treat you well again, Miss Black. And, Mr. Black, did you enjoy your stay as much as your sister?"

He answered, "I've always enjoyed the islands."

Lani nodded pleasantly, and gauged the stances. Sitting back in her seat, she let the background music take over and it was less than five minutes later that Robin's head began to droop until she was unconscious.

Lani reached for the bottle from Robin's hands and placed it into the cupholder. "Before you attempt to kill me with your bare hands, I promise it was a mild sedative, don't worry."

Amon glanced at his unopened bottle and handed it back to Lani, "Was that necessary?"

Lani shrugged, "It affords us a few minutes alone, Mr. Black… To give you further instruction."

"I promise to listen, but that's all. I have all the instruction I need."

"Sienna said you would say that."

He glanced down at Robin, making sure she really was out, "What else did Sienna say?"

"Nothing much, other than to enjoy the islands and that it has changed much since you were last here with her. I had not heard that you ever hunted in the 50th state."

So she was a Solomon operative. Not surprising. "I didn't realize that I was one to be kept up with."

He said it with a tone that brokered no further conversation… Lani leaned against her seat, her eyes staring out of the window as they sped on the highway that followed paralleled the ocean on the southern part of the island.

If he had thought running from the Factory was a lifetime ago, then his last visit to the islands had been in ancient times...


	6. Act II, Scene II

_**Five Witches **_

_**By Yaya

* * *

**_

Act II, Scene II

Sienna, daughter to Chairman Roman Lucas of Solomon International, had never been afforded a regular childhood. It was the one of the few thoughts she was able to put together as she sat in the conference room of her father's yacht. She had just sat in on a meeting with her father, her brothers Carlo and Henri, and two of Roman's select operatives. It had been one of the more disturbing meetings she had attended in her young life even though she had that that at fourteen she had heard it all.

Drake, the younger of the operatives had summarized it early on in the meeting, _"Anna Vaughn is the secondary threat. The Warlock controls her – as we believe he may have done so over a decade ago when she first went over the edge."_

The Warlock. It was a dangerous name to say, a living myth like the Methuselah in the Walled City. Both Warlock and Methuselah were rumored to be centuries old, and had early on in the history of the organization turned away from Solomon. That was where their similarities ended though. For the most part, the Methuselah ignored Solomon and the organization tried to return the favor … The Warlock, on the other hand, reared his head every few decades and wrecked havoc on the organization. He had a penchant for beautiful daughters of the Solomon elite. More than a dozen women had been kidnapped from the elite families in the past fifty years alone.

"_Can she be saved?"_ Roman had asked, not surprising his daughter. Tucker Vaughn, Anna's father, was a valued director and one of Roman's inner circle of friends.

Evan, the older of the operatives had shaken his head, sliding the file towards Roman. It would be the latest report from the field, more current than any of the emails Sienna had checked before entering the meeting that morning. Roman had spent a few minutes looking at the report before handing it to his oldest son Carlo. Carlo's face had been grim before passing it to Henri. Roman's middle child was more expressive than Carlo and his face visible paled.

Henri reluctantly handed the file to Sienna and her eyes flew threw the report. _We came across what remained of Agent Luong's body in target's apartment. Agent Luong was able to turn her weapon on one of the dogs, a female Rottweiler. In its jaws were chunks of Luong's flesh..._

_"Jesus Christ, I'm too young to be seeing this shit," _Sienna had whispered, turning the page and seeing the picture of what Drake and Evan had come across that morning. She fought back the urge to throw up her breakfast. When she had looked up, she met Drake's gaze and used her secondary psychic abilities to read that he had not been able to do the same this morning. He had thrown up in that kitchen, seeing one of his friends torn to shreds.

"_You and me both, kid," _he had managed before Evan had cleared his throat and continued with his report.

"_Miss Vaughn is beyond redemption. Six months ago she sent her son Amon away to live with friends – Ex Operative Keisuke Nagira's wife and older son. From that point forward, Miss Vaughn spiraled downwards – she has dispensed with the four operative teams we sent her way, and there have been several civilian incidents that have ended in serious bodily harm. From the psychometric readings of the scene, Miss Vaughn no longer knows who she is, who she was, or where she came from. A single thought runs through her consciousness. The Warlock." _

The meeting had ended soon after that. Roman had given his permission to up the Hunt. That was where Henri came in, his ability to turn on and off a person's Craft would be especially useful. The men had left the room, leaving Sienna to her thoughts. She had pulled up her private files on the computer when she heard the door open again and her father and Carlo walked in.

"You should have killed her when you had the chance," Sienna said, looking up. She turned off the screen and sat back.

"And what do you know about that?" Roman asked, standing at against one of the chairs, his hands gripping the back of it. Carlo took the chair at the head of the table, pulling the files the operatives had left earlier into a neat pile. A few years under thirty, he was his father's right hand man.

Though he and Henri shared the same mother, Sienna was the child of Roman's second wife. No one could tell by looking at them though. The three siblings shared the golden coloring of the Lucas family.

"That Father Juliano sent Keisuke Nagira, one of the greatest Hunters of all time, to hunt her and he instead betrayed Solomon by letting her go free. He's been working against us ever since. At that point you should have hunted her again - sent Carlo to finish her off."

"Intel says that the Methuselah was behind that." Carlo reminded his half-sister, "And in her dealings we do not interfere unless absolutely necessary."

Sienna shrugged, "How would the Methuselah have known if you killed her? She abandoned Anna Vaughn once she got Kei Nagira… and she's made no move to stop us from hunting Anna this time. We should have executed her back then – seven operatives would still be alive."

She spoke with the nonchalance of one who had been allowed perhaps too early to sit in on her father's meetings. Carlo and Roman shared a look – a point of contention between the two of them. Carlo would have given his sister the childhood he and Henri had been denied, Roman refused to treat any of his children differently, no matter the consequence.

Roman answered, "One does not unnecessarily make enemies of friends… Tucker Vaughn assured us that his daughter was no longer a threat."

"Sometimes, you are too nostalgic for your own good," Carlo said and his sister nodded in agreement.

Roman did not take well to being told he was nothing but a sentimental old fool - Carlo had not said the words, but Roman had read them in his son's eyes. The older man's eyes narrowed – the three of them in the room shared the same steel blue eyes that marked those of the Lucas clan – as he regarded his oldest and youngest, "Until either of you runs this organization, do not assume that I do not do what is right for Solomon."

A veiled threat thrown at his son, he had not said _When you, Carlo, run this organization_ - but instead included Sienna in the equation.

"Regardless of my nostalgia, I have taken the steps to take care of immediately. I would rather not involve the STN-J, Carlo," Roman stood up and left the siblings to their own devices. "If you and Henri would finish this within the week, we can head back towards the States."

"Carlo?" Sienna asked as soon as her father had left the room. She was playing with the computer screen, swiveling it on its pedestal.

Had he his own way, Carlo would take care of it now. Forget the niceties of rendering Anna Vaughn craftless. Carlo was a top hunter, he could take her – and he needed the challenge that it would bring. But there was no way he would convince Henri of letting him take such a chance. Henri was the mother hen among them, more so than Sienna sometimes. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to pay attention to his sister, "Yes?"

"What about the child? Amon."

"Ah, Sienna, that is none of your concern."

"But, Carlo…" She persisted.

"What?"

"He's the son of Keisuke Nagira… the greatest Hunter to ever come out of Solomon. If we could get him, train him… perhaps this kid could make up for everything his parents have ever done to us?"

Carlo shook his head, smiling nonetheless. "The sins of the father are not the sins of the blood, Sienna."

"Then… why are we hunting him?" She asked, pulling the keyboard tray out. The computer screen switched on and she entered some commands, bringing up a file she had been reviewing the previous night.

Amon Nagira's picture appeared, his name and statistics underneath him. Eight years old, almost nine, a child of all angles, he was adorable none the less. Perhaps, it was becoming a father that had made Carlo see innocence in all children…especially – he read down the statistics – when the child was so vulnerable with no sign of craft.

"This is yesterday's report, before the incident, Carlo," Sienna warned. She typed a few more keys and a red line appeared diagonally across his face - the signal to the entire organization that he was on the Hunted List. Sienna brought up the execution orders - signed by Juliano Colegui.

His sister was probably the best informed woman in all of Solomon – no matter what age. She played her cards like a master, revealing her hand only when necessary. It was her most damning and admirable trait.

"Goddamned meddling old man," Carlo whispered, the options running in his head. He settled on the one that could be done immediately, and privately… "Would you like to go to get little Amon, Sienna?"

She nodded and then asked, slowly laying out her plans one card at a time, "Can I take Henri with me?"

It was the best resolution, Carlo realized… but of course he should have known. Sienna always thought two steps ahead of all of them.


End file.
